


Sing For Me

by HASA_Archivist



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Drama, Other - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-18
Updated: 2006-02-25
Packaged: 2018-03-23 12:20:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3767945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HASA_Archivist/pseuds/HASA_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During our time, a woman finds comfort in the most unlikeliest of people... (Maglor/OFC)..</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the HASA Transition Team: This story was originally archived at [HASA](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Henneth_Ann%C3%BBn_Story_Archive), which closed in February 2015. To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in February 2015. We posted announcements about the move, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please contact The HASA Transition Team using the e-mail address on the [HASA collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hasa/profile).

**Summary :** During our time, a woman finds comfort in the most unlikeliest of people... (Maglor/OFC).

**Disclaimer : **I do not own The Silmarillion... :sigh: I'm not clever enough to invent such fantastic stories, which is why I do fanfiction and mooch off other authors and their writing.

**A/N :** I don't know if anyone else has tried this type of mini-ficlet before, but I thought I would give it a go and see how people liked it. It will only be a few chapters long. Constructive feedback would be greatly appreciated!

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**Sing For Me.**

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_'He came never back among the people of the Elves..'_

**\- Of the Voyage of Eärendil and the War of Wrath -**

**\- The Silmarillion -**

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There it was again.

That voice...

She had heard it every day for the past week. The tenor echoed through the passages of her quiet beach-front home and though she didn't understand the words, it felt as if a heavy burden had been placed upon her shoulders whenever she listened to the mournful tune. How an unidentifiable song could have such an effect, she had no idea. But when the last verses were sung and the voice drifted away, carried off into the humid air towards the slowly sinking sun, it left her feeling melancholic and somewhat depressed.

With that haunting song, her retreat from life and the grievances she carried from the past year were all brought to the forefront.

Her book forgotten, she rose from her mother's rocking chair and strolled through the dimly lit corridor, towards the kitchen at the rear of the house. Even with all the windows shut, the voice still managed to penetrate through the glass and she knew she would have to do something before she let her frustration and sorrow cloud her better judgement.

Quietly, she gazed out of the kitchen window that offered her a view of the blossoming rainbow-coloured garden before it joined with the white-shore beach and the churning ocean beyond.

Of course, nothing was there save for the muffled cries of gulls flying and circling around one another in the orange-tinted sky.

Nothing was there; no one was there.

She was alone. Again.

Many times, she thought she was imagining the voice. But the song seemed too real to be conjured from the tattered fabric of her mind. She was tired. Tired of thinking, tired of breathing, tired of living.

Tired of _being_.

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The cool sea breeze ruffled the tight curls of her gradually greying auburn hair. Mouth set into a hard line, jaw clenched impassively, she stared at the rippling azure waves that shimmered beneath the sun. Lines peppered the corners of her mouth, the corners her earthy brown eyes; a sign of her joyful past and the coming days of her future sorrow.

Another week, another day and she waited... Waited for the despairing song to begin again.

_Her_ song.

Movement in the corner of her eye forced her to break the binding spell that had been cast upon her by the deceiving sea. She turned and looked. And found nothing. Saline tears blurred her vision as she rose from the damp sand of the deserted beach; it clung to her backside in sticky granules.

" _Why do you weep, my lady?"_ The voice whispered. The voice that sang, but she could not understand the words.

She whirled around, flailing about as if lost in the dark. Like a scared child with no hope, no faith to keep her tied to the circles of the world. Her wearied bones creaked and groaned like an old, decayed tree bending to the majesty of an unwavering gale.

And then, she saw him.

The man that embodied the voice. He came forth like a vision in a dream; a mirage of timelessness and decadence.

But, no. Not a man.

She looked closer, her muddy eyes narrowing. Gods, he was breathtaking. More than breathtaking. He was ethereally removed, like something taken from the pages of a myth. A tall creature he was, swathed in blue and black; cloth from another time, another world. Piercing grey eyes delved into her own, touching the corners of her soul and she resisted the urge to recoil. She could not breath under his gaze. Her eyes began to wander and she gazed upon the darkest of silky sable hair as it draped down around his broad shoulders to the lithe muscular chest. Startled, she barely registered the delicate points of his ears and the perfect shape of his almond eyes.

No lines creased his face, no mark marred his flawlessly pale skin.

Utterly untouchable.

She drank him in. She devoured his beauty as though she had been starved from birth; from the luscious pouting mouth, to the knee-quivering squared jaw. The narrow waist and strong legs clad in some form of leggings... She took it all in and looked upon the body of the voice that had tormented her for endless hours before this day.

How could something – someone - so beautiful, be the cause of so much grief?

Her gaze drifted back to the disconcerting grey eyes that examined her with an equally shrewd gaze. They shimmered with hidden amusement and barely concealed despair and grief.

"Is this a dream?" She roused from her slumber to speak. Her whispering voice seemed fragile, like the flutter of a butterfly's wings against the raging wind.

The man... no, creature, cocked his head thoughtfully, as though he were contemplating her words. He shrugged gracefully and waved his hand, as if to say he did not understand.

He spoke.

But she could not fathom his words.

The lack of understanding left her feeling bereft. Bereft of hope. "Please tell me you understand what I'm saying," she pleaded, her words quivering with unimaginable pain.

Again, he tilted his head the other way, thoughtfully and almost inquisitively as he registered her own sorrow collapsing around her. He opened his mouth and murmured some words, ending with, "... _Maglor."_

But gradually, he faded from her vision before he could speak another word in his beautiful, lilting voice.

And she was alone. Again.

Her questionable sanity swamped through her veins once more and she fell to the ground, to her knees. It _was_ a dream. It had to be.

It couldn't be anything else, because she promised herself that it would stop. She would stop seeing these visions given to her by an unforeseen force of power. She _had_ stopped. She didn't want them any more, she had blocked them. Fifteen years without them... So why were they starting again? Why could she see things that no one else claimed to see? It was unfair. It was horrid and cruel.

It was frightening.

However, deep within her soul, she knew it was her own mourning heart that had broken the steady barrier she had erected between herself and her visions.

The fading cry of gulls in the background pulled her away from the danger of drowning in her thoughts.

How long she remained by the sea, she did not know.

But her heavy sobs lingered in the air with uncertainty. Her tears fell like an endless torrent of rain upon the minuscule grains of pale sand that were threaded with strands of deep green seaweed. And she watched; watched as her tears were absorbed before they disappeared.

Just like the creature from her vision.

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	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> During our time, a woman finds comfort in the most unlikeliest of people... (Maglor/OFC)..

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**Sing For Me.**

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" _Marry me?"_

_Her eyes shot open and she raised herself onto her elbows, looking down at the head of messy dark hair resting on her naked stomach._

_Chin propped against her belly-button, his clear blue eyes as bright as the morning sky peered back at her with amusement._

" _W-what?" She stuttered._

_He smiled. "Will. You. Marry. Me?" With each word, he kissed the bared flesh of her supple stomach, neither muscled nor toned. Just right._

_Breath caught in her throat, tears came to her eyes. "Are you... sure?"_

" _I've never been surer of anything in my life... Darlin'."_

_She laughed gleefully as he huskily voiced her ridiculous nick-name with his beautiful accent; a voice that held a rugged Southern twang._

_It sent a tremor down her spine._

" _You haven't answered my question," he prompted, still amused as he slowly crawled up over her body like a daring panther, his rough skin sliding against her damp frame as he left a trail of heated kisses in his wake._

_Their bodies twisted and twined together in the soiled sheets, like two serpents coiling around one another. He nestled himself between her parted thighs, kissed her deeply and drew back. Anticipation, excitement, hope and fear sparkled within his eyes. All rolled into one neat little package as he looked down at her._

_He was worried about rejection._

_She was in love._

_Slowly, she pulled his lips close to hers and murmured the word that would change her life forever. "Yes. The answer is, yes."_

_Chuckling, he breathed a sigh of relief and lost himself within her._

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Tears from the painful, dredged up memory mingled with the cool spray of the outdoor shower in her backyard. She shook them away, moving her head like a hound that had been drenched from head to tail. Although she cried, she could not feel anything. No pain, no sadness... Nothing. She was utterly numb. And she supposed she had medication to thank for that.

Beneath the noise of running water, she could hear the faded sound of the gentle sea-waves pushing forward and receding from the white shore beyond her garden. She lathered and soaped herself thoroughly, removing the sand and dry, salty water that clung to her from her short swim.

Feeling cleaner, she turned the nob, stilling the steady stream of water before reaching for the fluffy blue towel that was perched on a hook protruding from the wall. She sighed heavily and wiped her face before wrapping it around her body tightly, cocooning herself from the golden rays of sunlight that shone down without remorse.

She turned. And almost screamed.

It was _him_. The handsome, beautiful creature from the vision she had a week prior. Only now, he did not seem like a vision. He looked more... real, and slightly more solid. Like he was really there, but still somewhat removed from the harsh, coarse world. Though he was still no less beautiful and no less awe-inspiring with his height and stature.

For a week since she last saw him, she had heard his lilting voice singing with sorrow and despair every evening - but he hadn't shown himself again. Until now.

Oddly enough, she wasn't as frightened or desperate as she had been the first time she saw him. She should have been, given the circumstances and embarrassing situation at present. But she had long ago resigned herself to the fact she was slowly losing her mind; hearing things and seeing things that were out of the ordinary. It must be the anti-depressants she had been advised to take.

She sighed.

Insanity was _such_ an inconvenience.

She _would_ have screamed and felt anger, but the creature was not even looking at her. His head was tilted again like an inquisitive bird as he examined something. Her eyes followed his perplexed grey gaze that was fixed above and over her shoulder.

He was staring at the shower-head with something akin to awe.

Immediately, she knew that he had no clue as to what it was. It was obvious from the confounded expression on his face. But she still found it deeply disturbing that he did not know about such things.

She cleared her throat nervously and froze as his eyes snapped back to her; it felt as if she had been slapped when he abruptly looked at her. But a smile almost tugged at her lips as she saw him grow flustered by her towel-clad apparel and – unsurprisingly – he blushed before he turned suddenly. He stalked away from her, muttering to himself in an inconceivable language as he strode down the garden path, towards the gate that separated it from the sandy shore.

As he walked away and left her, she felt her breath come in shuddering, disbelieving gasps. Now that she could no longer see him, she immediately felt shock and fear crash through her without warning.

_What was he?_

So many questions and no answers! It was idiotic but she felt as if she _knew_ who he was. Or that she should know. Why she felt this, she did not know, nor could she guess at it. But it made her extremely fearful and again, question her sanity. If she did not know any better, she would have thought she was already locked up and tucked away inside a nice, sterile mental asylum.

But that was certainly not the case.

Trembling, she ran into the house to change; determined to solve the mystery that had been presented to her.

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She opened the back door and found him standing at the outside shower again.

His eyes were wide with disbelief as he turned the nob; left to right, right to left. He did not seem to notice her or that he was getting drenched in the process of turning the shower on and off. He was going to ruin his odd but intricately stitched clothing...

Walking towards him apprehensively, she knew she would have to end this. She would have to end these disastrous visions and get to the bottom of this man's appearance. She would have to end his damnable singing, for it stabbed at her heart - like a thousand knives tearing into the shell of her soul. "Excuse me?"

The creature stopped his motions and turned to her, straightening as he gathered his dignity and hid his curiosity. Which was nicely done, considering he was drenched from head to toe.

He said something to her, but she could not understand what he was saying.

"Wait!" She held up her hand in frustration and shook her head. "I don't understand what you're saying."

A sad expression came to her face as she remembered the first time she saw him and wished to speak with him. She had been particularly emotional that day, having thought she could endure the pain of grieving without anti-depressants, but she had been wrong. Now, with a clearer – albeit drugged – mind, she could gather enough strength to deal with this _thing's_ presence and get to the bottom of his sudden appearance.

He spoke again, this time softly, and bowed. " _Forgive me for intruding on you in such a manner._ "

She started, shocked that she could suddenly understand his words.

His voice was heavily accented; unlike anything she had ever heard before. It was musical in quality, almost as if he was singing, but she could sense the underlying bitterness that clung to the words. What he felt so bitter about, she did not know. The eerie thing about her understanding his words, was the fact that she had translated them in her mind. If she thought hard about it and focused, she realised that he was still speaking in his own language. How this was capable of happening, was completely beyond her.

Again, she thought she was slowly losing her sanity - one painful day at a time.

"Do you know what I'm saying?"

The creature listened to her words and paused for a brief moment before nodding slowly and replying in his own tongue. "Yes _, my lady. Do you...?"_ He trailed off as she nodded.

She understood him, he understood her; though neither of them were speaking the same language.

If now was the time to panic, she would have. But there was something important she _needed_ to do. And that was find out the identity of this creature that had appeared before her like mist upon the ground. "Who are you?" She asked softly but desperately. " _What_ are you? And more importantly, why are you here and what do you want?"

" _So many questions; I forget how impatient mortals are!"_ He smiled sadly, still eyeing the shower from the corner of his gaze. " _I go by many names. But you may call me Maglor. I am one of the Eldar; an Elf..._ "

Her gaze sharpened, and she interrupted. "... An elf?" Incredulous, she looked at his face and then his delicately pointed ears. His height and build. She blanched. "I thought elves were supposed to be small faerie creatures?"

The _elf_ named Maglor almost chuckled. " _I am certainly not small, nor am I a faerie creature, my lady. But I assure, I am an elf..._ " He trailed off and turned towards the shower-head almost furtively. " _How is it that you have rain in there? Is there a cloud inside?_ " He turned back and looked at her innocently. There was no deceit in his eyes.

He honestly thought there was a cloud in the shower-head.

She blinked, hiding her grimace and smile that threatened to show itself.

She really was losing her mind.

A heavy sigh fell from her lips as she looked at his sodden form, still handsome even though he was soaked to the skin. With a shake of her head, she frowned deeply and sighed.

It was going to be a _long_ day.

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End file.
